


Work

by beedekka



Category: Trailer Park Boys
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M, Masturbation, Muscles, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedekka/pseuds/beedekka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ricky drops round to Julian’s trailer on the hottest day of the year and finds him in there working out, there’s only one possible way things are gonna go down… and it’s fuckin’ greasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 13th round of [smallfandomfest](http://smallfandomfest.livejournal.com/), to the prompt: Body admiration. Ricky likes Julian's muscles. 
> 
> It’s a PWP with even more porn and even less plot than a J-Roc production ;o)

Ricky knocked on the door to Julian’s trailer, tossing down the cigarette he’d been smoking on the way over and scuffing it into the steps so it couldn’t catch anything on fire – the fucking sun right now was hot enough without anything else burning up the place. “Julian?” he called, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand and peering through the window. “You here?” There was a muffled grunt from inside, which Ricky took as an invitation in.

It was even warmer in the trailer than outside. Despite the windows being open, the breeze wasn’t blowing through, and Ricky felt the heat hit him as soon as he stepped in. “It’s fuckin’ sweltering in here…” he began, but tailed off as he saw Julian. He was stripped to the waist, muscles up and bulging, and he’d obviously just broken off working out to greet him.

“Hey, what’s up?” Julian asked, wiping his face and hands with an already damp towel before throwing it down on the couch and picking up his drink instead.

“Came over to see what you were doing. I’m thinkin’ of going down to King of Donair and boosting some of that ice-drink from their machine. That idiot Jacob is working there now, so he can give it to me. Actually, I’m gonna get him to give me the whole thing – I’ll set it up off that power outlet by Bubbles’ shed.”

“Sounds good.” Julian put the rum and coke on the table again and pushed his hair back. Ricky noticed that it was slick with sweat, flattening down under his hands like the guys in old movies wore it. He often thought Julian had that look down – like a bruiser from those films about bare-knuckle boxing or something – the handsome thug. It suited him…

“What have I got to do with it?” Julian interrupted the train his mind had headed off in.

“Huh?” 

“Were you just over here to offer me a slushie?” Julian reached down to get hold of the big dumbbell he must have been using before Ricky came in, lifting it with ease and moving it off to the side of the room.

“Well, yeah. I was going to ask if you wanted pizza and slurpee, I guess.”

Julian cracked a smile. “I always want a slurpee, you should know that by now.”

“I know you’ve got a fuckin’ filthy dirty mind,” Ricky told him.

Having cleared the space, Julian got down on the floor and started doing crunches, hands behind his neck and coming up fast. Ricky couldn’t help noticing exactly how the move showed off both his biceps and his chest and abs. Jeez, he was always big when he’d just got out of jail – free access to the gym equipment for as long as he could sweet-talk the CO’s into, and time on his hands…

Julian was watching him as he curled up, so Ricky leant against the edge of the nearest counter and watched him right back, lighting another cigarette and blowing the smoke out hard into the still air of the trailer. Julian had an old office fan plugged-in in the corner, but it wasn’t circulating jack shit, and Ricky could see the rivulets of sweat coming out on Julian’s skin as he worked; his breathing had picked up too, marking the effort he was putting in. Ricky knew that if he closed his eyes his imagination could conjure up a very different picture to match that sound. Yeah, the temperature was definitely rising.

Ricky licked his lips and stuck the cigarette at the corner of his mouth so he could go hands-free, then he shifted position to make _his_ best features more prominent as well. He hadn’t come over here to flirt, but if Julian was gonna put it on the table a little, he wasn’t going to ignore it. He casually dropped one hand down and adjusted his pants; the thin material of the trackies did nothing to disguise the outline of his cock as he pressed against it and got a semi jut going on. Then he leaned back lazily again and let Julian see it.

He was pleased that Julian’s precise up-and-back rhythm of crunches faltered for a split-second when he did. “Don’t let me distract you.”

Julian blew out a breath before answering, “I can do this a long time.” Back. Up. Breath. “Why don’t _you_ carry on?”

Ricky grinned around his smoke and slid one hand inside his track pants, keeping watch on the flex and sheen of Julian’s muscles as he moved, listening to his breathing getting heavier. He pushed the pants down enough to bring his cock up and out where Julian could see just how hard it was now, then he stubbed the cigarette on the work-surface with his other hand before spitting into the palm and taking hold of himself.

He was as good as Julian at putting on a show, but he only had to half-exaggerate the little hitching moan he made as he started jerking himself off, and the heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips that showed him how turned on he was. In response, Julian was holding each curl for longer when he got to the top of it to give himself a better view, neck craning.

“How many can you do before I cum?” Ricky asked him, voice coming out greasy deep.

Julian didn’t answer, and Ricky was pretty sure he was torn between sticking to his word about how long he could keep going, and jumping up to take over what his hands were doing right then.

“Bet low,” he added, “‘cause I’m fucking heated-up as fuck right now!”

Julian made a sound halfway between a grunt and a hiss at that, and Ricky could see that he was hard inside his pants too, his erection tenting up and rubbing against the cloth on every crunch. “Keep workin’ Jules – I want to watch you while I’m doin’ this.”

“Oh yeah.”

Ricky spat into his hand again and slicked his cock over, stroking it firm and steady, biting his lip as he focussed on the feeling starting to spark in the pit of his stomach. The chain Julian wore around his neck was snaking over the top of his chest and catching his eye as it glinted in the light, and he remembered all the times he’d tangled it in his fingers while they were fucking, pulling Julian forward to kiss him. He thought of how his lips tasted, how his tongue felt, how much he wanted to run his own tongue down over those taut pecs. “Oh shit, Julian.” His hand speeded up and he had to concentrate to keep watching and not close his eyes as the heat in his groin intensified. “Feels fuckin’ good, like you look…”

He could tell Julian was hanging off his every word; he was making little noises of encouragement and arousal that were getting him even hotter, and soon he could feel the sparks building up into waves and his hand getting slippery with pre-come when he swiped it over the tip of his cock.

“Come on, that’s it!” Julian urged him on. He was curling into full sit-ups now, and Ricky could see his eyes flicking between watching his face and his hand, trying to put the speed and the expression together to tell how close he was to coming. Ricky’s breathing was as laboured as Julian’s all of a sudden, and he felt his free hand gripping tighter on the edge of the counter as the muscles in his abdomen started quivering and the room became almost impossibly hot.

“Fuck yeah, I’m gonna…” he heard himself gasp out, and his body finished the sentence, waves of pleasure breaking over him as come pulsed out into his hand. “Yeah, holy fuck!”

Julian’s response was formed in the half-words, half-moan of strung-out arousal, and when Ricky focussed in on him again, he was reddening up like he was nearly fit to lose it himself. That was something he definitely wanted to see right now; those straining muscles shaking and glistening as Julian worked himself off.

Julian apparently wasn’t going to waste any time doing it either, reaching straight inside his pants and grabbing his dick out. He stroked it hard and fast, abs and chest pumping with his ragged breathing until suddenly he let out a heartfelt “ _Fuck_ ,” come spraying up in front of him in an obscene crescendo to his workout.

After a couple of seconds, he lay back down flat and laughed, skimming the sweat off his face with the crook of his forearm.

Ricky smiled, rearranging his pants and moving to pick up the towel off the couch for his hands. “I should’ve remembered that the heat always gets your horn up.” 

“Oh yeah,” Julian agreed. “And you’d better still be going down to rip off King of Donair, because I could _really_ fucking use that slushie now…”

 

-fin


End file.
